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Updated: May 17, 2025
Easterfield; "for a while you may like fresh butter without salt, but the longing for the condiment will be sure to come." There was Mrs. Blynn, the widow of a clergyman, with dark-brown eyes and white hair, who was always in a good humor, who acted as the general manager of the household, and also as particular friend to any one in the house who needed her services in that way.
Blynn not to trouble herself to accompany her to the door. When she left the house Maria did not seek the butcher's wagon, but started out on a little tour of observation through the grounds. She was quite sure Mr. Morris was waiting for her, but for this she did care a snap of her finger; he would not dare to go and leave her.
Fox did their best to make things lively, but their success was poor. Miss Raleigh, the secretary, sat ready to give an approving smile to any liveliness which might arise, and Mrs. Blynn, with the dark eyes and soft white hair, sat sewing and waiting; never before had it been necessary for her to wait for liveliness in Mrs. Easterfield's house.
Susan went to the door leading into the office. "No the other door," said Blynn hastily. He did not wish the office boy to read his defeat in Susan's countenance. He got up himself, opened the door into the hall. Susan passed out. "Think it over," said he, eyes and mouth full of longing. "Come round in a day or two, and we'll have another talk." "Thank you," said Susan.
Blynn is a good housekeeper; and as I have an offer for renting our town house; I propose that we all go to sea together." The two ladies had listened breathlessly to these words, and now Olive sprang up in great excitement, and Mrs. Easterfield clapped her hands in delight. "How clever you are, Tom!" she exclaimed. "What a splendid idea! How can we go?"
"Now, Margaret," her mother began, "I might just as well depend upon the wind as you! drop everything and run the minute you are called. That is just as much sense as Nettie Blynn has, running to the neighbours Saturday morning, and staying like that, when I have so much to do. You don't seem to care whether you help me or not." "Why, mother, how could I help it?" Margaret answered with spirit.
And the moisture was in the little eyes. "Well, I think I can do something for you. I must do something for you. Had much experience? Professional, I mean." Mr. Blynn laughed at his, to Susan, mysterious joke. Susan smiled faintly in polite response. He rubbed his hands and smacked his lips, the small eyes dancing. The moisture had vanished.
The wholesale slaughter of these ponies was a most cheering indication that our campaign would be ultimately successful, and we all prayed for at least a couple of months more of cold weather and plenty of snow. At the Kiowa village we found the body of a white woman a Mrs. Blynn and also that of her child.
It was based upon very little; it had not much to do with anything; it amounted to almost nothing; and yet it appeared to contain certain elements of importance which made Mrs. Blynn give it her serious consideration. After she had talked and peered about as long as she thought was necessary, Maria said she was afraid Mr. Morris would be waiting for her, and quickly took her leave, begging Mrs.
After several slight mistakes in the way, she descried ahead of her a large sign painted on the wall of a three-story brick building: MAURICE BLYNN, THEATRICAL AGENT ALL KINDS OF TALENT PLACED AND SUPPLIED After some investigation she discovered back of the saloon which occupied the street floor a grimy and uneven wooden staircase leading to the upper stories.
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